Lost
by The Crimson King
Summary: Love is stone cold. Let your love go, and you'll feel the biting remorse of it until you manage to forget. Or until you die. Vincent Valentine grieves about a certain ninja girl, now far away... CHAPTER III UP Land's End. We go now Conclusions.
1. Dance In Sand And Sea

Phoenix Down & The Crimson King present:  
  
  
Lost  
  
  
  
Chapter I  
  
--Dance In Sand And Sea--  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
'If only we remembered  
As much as we forget'  
  
  
  
  
The young man was tiered.  
Not just tiered, but beaten.  
  
The young man was broken, battered, and felt old. Old. Like so much sand in the eye.  
  
It was cold outside; autumn rose like the moon near the sea.   
His dry hands in his pockets began to crack when the wind began to pick up.  
It was always windy near the cliffs of the sea.  
When he needed to be alone, he just sat there for hours.  
He had been there for most of the day.  
  
It must have been, what, eleven, twelve in the morning?  
  
A smile was painted on his face as he sat on the high cliff that merged with the sea.   
How can it be that he had never seen another soul tread upon these high cliffs, when the moon calls to the eye and to the lone heart?  
And Vincent was the loneliest of all hearts.  
  
He had lost her.  
  
  
  
He  
  
Had  
  
Lost  
  
Her.  
  
  
  
  
"So here we are, or, rather, here am I...quite alone..."  
  
  
Standing up, he brushed the sand from his trousers. The grains were blown away in a swirl of icy grips.  
It reminded him of something funny she once said.   
How odd it is, that something so small, like a breath of wind, can remind you of these things.  
  
He walked on, heading for the seashore.  
  
"I'm seeing things that we shared before, long ago. My memory stretches. And I am dazed. ....You know.... I know....   
  
"How the time was.  
  
"And,  
  
"How I laughed."  
  
  
  
Poetry is an awkward thing.  
  
It smoothes the reckless feelings one has for another; penetrating it into elegant phrases, and harmless harmony.   
Emotions are much more brutal. They bleed, like so much... like so much...  
  
Vincent stopped as he reached the seashore. The water ripped upon the sand, and retreated with a frightened roar.   
  
"Times have changed, now you are far away. ... I can't complain: I've had all my chances, but they slipped right through my hands... Like so much sand."  
  
Sand.  
  
Emotions bleed like so much sand.  
  
He slipped off his red cape, and tossed it to the sea.  
Away it went, like a puddle of blood in the cool darkness.  
  
"I know I'll never dance like I used to."  
  
He slipped off of his boots, and rested them near the sea. He dipped his toes into the biting waters. It was like icicles, licking his skin with tongues of flame.  
  
The waves bobbed forward and back, forgiving and returning the memories and the lost.   
The crimson cape he threw washed up once again ashore. Wet, and draped in seaweeds.  
  
Nothing I forget leaves me completely.  
Memories will haunt me forever.  
Until I die.  
  
  
"I'll just wait till day breaks upon land and sea.  
Hoping that I can catch all the memories  
Then I must crawl off upon my way."  
  
  
Gently, so gently, a tiny fish swam up near his toes. It felt tiny speckles of sea water drip into his home.   
The small fish looked up, and through the foam, it saw a sad man weeping.  
  
The man had outstretched his arms, as if to embrace the night.  
His head thrown back, his hair like black nets catching the wind.  
His teeth glowed, like a crescent moon on his face.  
He was smiling widely.  
  
"Listening hard for the final words.  
  
  
"But there are none... my love.  
  
  
"The sunrise calls.  
  
  
  
"I have lingered on.  
  
  
  
"Too close for comfort.......  
  
  
  
"...And I don't know quite why."  
  
  
  
The sunlight crucified him as it woke. He stood there. The water underneath his naked feet, his arms welcoming the day.  
  
The fish tasted his tears.  
  
  
"I feel like crying!  
  
  
  
"I know we'll never dance like we used to."  
  
  
A broken heart is like a burning knife sinking into your flesh, plunging deep inside you.  
  
  
"And I look up... I am almost blinded by the warmth of what's inside of me.  
  
"And the taste that is in my soul,  
  
  
Vincent shouted out to the sun:  
  
  
"But I am dead inside...as I stand alone..."  
  
  
Then, he turned. The fish dashed off, in order to go on with his small, fish life-never again to taste the tears of a broken man.  
Vincent picked up his boots.  
His book was nearly complete. One page to go.  
  
And he walked off. 


	2. Secrets

Phoenix Down & The Crimson King present:  
  
  
Lost  
  
  
  
Chapter II  
  
--Secrets--  
  
  
Secrets. So many secrets. The things you don't tell ANYBODY- not even if they offered you the universe in a little ball. The things on the tip of your tongue when you talk to your love. The things that will always be yours.  
Till the day you die.  
Secrets.  
So... many... secrets...  
  
Barret has so many. He tells no one his feelings-because it makes him strong to hold them inside.  
Deep inside.  
  
When he looks at her, it is his secret how he feels. He feels his heart soften with wet emotions. He feels a white dove fluttering madly in the pit of his stomach.  
And his face contorts, and his back turns. He acts the opposite of what he feels when he is around her.  
He doesn't want her to know.  
Besides,  
What does it matter?  
She loves someone else.  
  
...She doesn't even know who he really is....  
  
He isn't the strong man. Or the uneducated man.   
He is an intelligent man... (Perhaps not book smart, but street smart, surely)   
He is a little colored boy from the small mining town of Corel, who fell in love with a girl who helped him try to save the world.  
  
He watches her, as if outside of his own body. She tells a joke. He smiles lightly. She plays games with his baby girl, he smiles like a proud father.  
  
Tifa.   
  
Why, Tifa? Why Cloud? Why do you love his spikey ass?  
  
Barret has so many secrets.  
  
"What, Barret? What did you say?"  
  
"Nevamind. I didn't say nuthin'."   
  
"Oh," she adds as if she was going to say something else. But she didn't.   
  
Marlene smiled, but then frowned again as Tifa stood up and walked into the kitchen.  
The little girl's eyes leapt to her father's, to Tifa's backside, then fell to the unfinished smatterings of a puzzle on the hardwood floor.  
  
From the kitchen, Barret heard Tifa's voice penetrate. Marlene seemed to pay no attention, for her hands were busy trying to push together two puzzle pieces that were obviously not made for each other.  
  
"I haven't heard from her at all today. I hope that she got to Wutai safely." The faucet water in the kitchen drowned her voice out slightly.   
Barrent bent down and tried to find Marlene's matching piece.  
  
"I'm sure she did, ya' know, she ain't like she's ain't got no sence of direction." Barret replied with a hue of sadness to his voice. His brown eyes were like two pools of reflecting pink moons.   
As he stared at Marlene's tiny hands, the memories of the last weekend dripped through his pool of a mind.  
  
"Yeah, but," Tifa looked up and turned off the water, then picked up a dirty plate.  
  
The white afternoon light leapt through the kitchen window like a springing feline.  
  
"...I don't know. I thought she--... you know. With Vincent. I mean,"   
  
Marlene looked up, and dropped the two puzzle pieces that didn't fit onto the floor. Barret held his breath for no reason.  
  
"I hope Vincent's ok, too." Tifa quickly added. "I didn't think that-THAT would happen between those two. A train wreck. I didn't see it coming." Tifa turned back on the water, as if to cape her words.  
  
  
Barret hesitated, and then erupted.   
"A TRAIN WRECK!!??" Marlene looked up worriedly at the scarlet, contorted snarl on her father's face. "That wuz no %$!% TRAIN WRECK! It was a freak o' nature! That... that wuz, .. "   
Barret turned to the light, feathered face of Marlene's. It looked as if it were going to crack into a flood of tears.  
  
Her hands holding the jigsaw puzzle pieces trembled like a leaf caught in a whisper of wind.   
  
Barret suddenly stopped. The water in the kitchen turned off again.  
Tifa appeared in the doorway before Barret and Marlene.  
  
"I personally don't think that it was supposed to happen. I can't believe that Vincent actually loves Yuffie. It's... it's just not right."  
  
Marlene picked up the two jigsaw puzzle pieces once more, and again tried to cram them together into a perfect fit.  
  
  
"And he can be so dramatic about everything. Vincent. Sort of reminds me of somebody." Tifa continued.  
  
Barret wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not.  
But his fuse was short.  
  
"Are you sayin' that I'm $#^%@^&% dramatic!!!?" Barret headed into the kitchen with his boots echoing into the hallway. It was as if the house itself had a heart beat.  
  
Tifa didn't feel that she had to dignify anything with a response.  
  
Marlene wordlessly listened as she continued playing with the jigsaw pieces in the hallway.  
  
"The way you're acting TELLS me that you're dramatic, Barret. And that's not a bad thing. You're just passionate. If you weren't a dreamer, you wouldn't have been in AVALANCHE all those years.  
I just think that you and Vincent are more alike than you think. You're both die-hard romantics. I even bet that you'd be the first to die for someone you love, and kept secret about."  
  
Tifa smiled innocently while she rubbed a dry cloth over the saucer plate.  
Barret stared at her. Did... did she know how he felt? Or was it a joke?  
The creases on his face soften.  
  
"I'da die for you, I'da die for ANY of my friends. Even some #$!%!$ spikey-ass punk! And the only secret I got, is how I feel about you!"  
  
"See, my point exactly. What?" As Tifa turned around, her face flushed into a violent red.  
  
Barret's arms were crossed and his expression was closed. No one was quite sure if what he said was done on purpose or not.  
  
  
A shiny black beetle scuttled across the floor. The sound of Marlene quietly placing pieces of the jigsaw that didn't fit ticked on. Barret dropped his eyes. Tifa nearly dropped the white saucer.  
Sun slipped in through the wooden window pane.  
  
Secrets. Secrets spilled out onto the floor in a bloody, wet heap. 


	3. Dance In Frost

Phoenix Down & The Crimson King proudly present:  
  
-----------  
  
Lost  
  
-----------  
  
Chapter III  
  
Dance in Frost  
  
It hurt him.  
  
Oh, it hurt him.  
  
His mind wasn't clear anymore, he was like drunk, his limbs numb,  
  
there was no pain anymore...  
  
But that feeling was more than pain, it was like a bullet in the head.  
  
He felt his brains burning, twisting in pain, and trough the mist  
  
that was enveloping his mind, he could only see one thing: Her.  
  
By his side, an old, battered, ruined diary whose pages, consumed by  
  
the dust of time, danced like mad, turning back and forth.  
  
"I wore my moods like so many different sets of clothes  
  
but the right one was never around;  
  
and as you left I heard my body ring  
  
and my mind began to howl"  
  
...  
  
The yellowed pages swirled around.  
  
--She is on the cliff, a light breeze gently blowing the brown locks  
  
on her face.  
  
She's crying.  
  
Oh, how many times have I seen your cry, my Yuffie, crying lonely,  
  
and I wanted so much to run up to you and bury your face in my cloak.  
  
But I never had the courage.  
  
I remained hidden behind a bush, a tree, a rock.  
  
Looking at you.  
  
I let someone else took my chance...  
  
I'm a coward--  
  
He shook his head to chase the thought of the girl away, but it would  
  
return, return, return until he'd died.  
  
It wouldn't take long.  
  
He was paralyzed now, sitting on the edge of the frozen pond, his  
  
back leaning against an old tree.  
  
Looking out to the pond, a flattened plane of frost which bared no  
  
Living things.  
  
Footprints were stamped on it.  
  
Someone had danced on it.  
  
Someone who had the same shoe size as Vincent.  
  
The feet stamped on the frost didn't follow any pattern, it was only  
  
a nutcase's walzer.  
  
A thin cloak of sleet covered the dying man.  
  
You know that I need you, but somehow I don't think you see my love  
  
at all  
  
His crimson eyes shot wide open.  
  
His parents.Shinra.Turks.Hojo.Lucretia.A golden claw, drenched with blood.Sephiroth.Coffin.Avalanche.Cloud.Yuffie.  
  
Yuffie.  
  
Yuffie.  
  
At some point I lost you, I don't know quite how it was;  
  
The wonderland lay in a coat of white, chilling frost  
  
I looked around and I found I was truly lost:  
  
He was lost, his soul gone with the wind, doomed to be a martyr of  
  
Persecution for his whole life.  
  
Without your hand in mine I am dead .....  
  
Reality is unreal and games I've tried just aren't the same:  
  
Without your smile there's nowhere to hide  
  
and deep inside  
  
His eyelids began falling shut.  
  
I know I've never cried as I'm about to ...  
  
If I could just frame the words that would make your fire burn  
  
all this water now around me could be the love that   
  
should surround me.  
  
One last time.  
  
The tears drew straight lines on his pale, half-frozen cheeks.  
  
Looking out through the tears that bind me  
  
my heart bleeds that you may...find me  
  
He hoped she wouldn't get to know of his death.  
  
He hoped she would think of him happily basking in the sun of a warm,  
  
sunny beach.  
  
Instead, he was freezing to death on the shores of an icy pond.  
  
What a paradox.  
  
As if moved by an invisible hand, the diary's pages moved through all  
  
the delirium between the lines and eventually reached the last page.  
  
--To whomever shall find me  
  
Leave me.  
  
~  
  
There are far less things in life to dream about-- after one has dreamed of love.  
  
"I can't believe that." Thought Tifa as she poured the cold coffee down the kitchen sink. The oil brown liquid formed a tiny tornado down as it tumbled into the black hole.  
  
It sank into the pipes. Lost.   
  
Marlene glanced up and nodded. "It's true. She wasn't wearing black."  
  
"But, I didn't even see her there. That's not fair, you know. To Vincent." Tifa's blank expression made her pale voice seem even blander than it was. She felt empty. Funerals were meant to be sad. Why wasn't she wearing black? Didn't she know how Vincent felt about her?  
  
"She should have worn black to his funeral." Tifa said matter of factly as she let the coffee maker fill with water. She moved the water around. Then dumped it out.  
  
Marlene shrugged.   
  
Tifa sighed.  
  
Loss was something that happens to everyone else. It seems so dramatic when it is captured.   
  
And yet, loss sets all things free. To loose a dream, to have one's hope shattered into a thousand pieces... only to have all shards to be set free like so many mourning doves. 'Lost' was merely a conundrum of deep-rooted love.  
  
We are all lost.  
  
Vincent was lost.  
  
"Mom?" Marlene looked up curiously with wet brown eyes.  
  
"I'm not your mom, sweetheart." Tifa replied. Her controlled voice softened at it's edges. She took a towel and dried the coffee pot.  
  
"Where's Dad?"  
  
"I don't know, baby. Lost, somewhere, maybe. I donno. He'll come back, soon."  
  
Marlene fled from her chair at the table, and held onto Tifa.  
  
Tifa lowered herself, and wept.  
  
Vincent was gone.  
  
And they were lost. 


End file.
